


Training a New One

by houseofabrasax



Series: The Queen's Harem [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cages, Chains, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Bondage, Cock Rings, Collars, Death Threats, Edgeplay, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Harems, Human Furniture, Humiliation, Kneeling, Manipulation, Master/Slave, Naked Male Clothed Female, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nudity, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pain, Public Nudity, Punishment, Service Kink, Service Submission, Sexual Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofabrasax/pseuds/houseofabrasax
Summary: The queen receives a new boy as a gift, and he has to be broken before he can be used.
Series: The Queen's Harem [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653607
Comments: 11
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

I came to on my knees. I couldn’t see anything on account of some kind of hood over my head, and I began to panic instantly. It felt like I couldn’t breathe; I was gagged. I gasped for air through the fabric. I tried to stand, but found that my arms were chained together and someone was holding me down.

I struggled against them, hoping to break free. All I got for my trouble was a swift kick in the back, which made breathing even harder.

_Where the fuck am I?_ Last thing I knew, I was running an errand in town, and now I was…wherever this was.

There were voices above me. “I thought you’d enjoy breaking him.” A man’s voice, it sounded like.

There was no response right away, then: “He’s had no training at all?”

“Not a bit, Majesty. He’s new to the trade as of…well, as of today.”

Then I heard a laugh; the second voice, probably a woman. Her laugh was somehow both charming and sinister. Whatever they were talking about, she liked it quite a lot.

“Okay then. Let’s see him.”

I had almost forgotten the hands holding me down, but one found my hood and yanked it off. I blinked several times in bright, gold light. When my eyes focused, I knew for sure I wasn’t in town anymore.

The room was huge – _grand_ , even – and ostentatious as hell. It was done in gold and stone; marble floors, high ceilings. It looked like a painting. I was on the floor in the middle of the room, and just in front of me was a throne. Tall, impressive, unbelievably imposing. And currently occupied by a woman with long limbs and thick black braids, absolutely glittering in all of the embellishments she was wearing.

I shouted through the gag, asked where I was and what I was doing here, but it only came out as useless noise.

“My, he is pretty,” the woman said, staring down at me. She looked at me like I was an object. “You certainly know my type.”

I turned to where she was looking, at a broad man standing beside me. He ignored me as I continued to shout into my gag. My knees were starting to hurt on the hard floor.

“Would you care for a closer look?” the man said.

She stood up slowly from her throne, descending toward me. Whoever she was, and as terrifying as the situation was, I had to admit she was beautiful. Dark, smooth skin, like she was carved from onyx. Unimaginably piercing eyes. And she moved like silk.

My heartbeat was in my throat. She was standing in front of me now and I looked up into her eyes. She had a small smile. Then she took one hand and gripped my chin, turning my face this way and that. She studied me. My shouts had become more of a whimper now, but she ignored them. After a while, she took one of her hands to my hair and ran her fingers through it. I shivered; it almost felt good.

“Yes, I think that will do,” she said after a while. She turned to face the other man. “And what were you expecting in in return?”

“Oh no, this is my gift to Your Majesty. I only aim to please.”

_Gift?_ She smiled again and made a dismissive gesture with her hand; the man bowed and left the room. Her gaze turned back to me.

“Do you even understand what’s happened, boy?”

I didn’t understand anything. I glared at her as best I could and tried to tell her to go to hell, but only managed to wriggle and shout wordlessly.

Her hand was back on my chin now, tilting my face up to look at her. “You belong to me now. And you’re just so pretty…I know exactly what to do with you. From now on, the only thing you care about is pleasing me.”

My head was swimming. Pleasing her? This was insane, she couldn’t just kidnap people and force them into—whatever this was.

There was a thought in the back of my mind, though. Stories of a tyrannical queen from a country on the other side of the continent. People worshipped her like a god, they said. Her servants would do anything for her, they said. I thought it was a made-up story to frighten children.

The story always ended that if you weren’t careful you might end up there, and no one ever comes back.

Panic clouded my mind. I started thrashing against the arms holding me, desperate to break free. Run somewhere, anywhere.

I couldn’t free myself from the grip, and suddenly her hand was back in my hair. This time, she gripped it tight and yanked, pulling my face as my eyes grew hot with tears.

“Lesson one. I demand nothing short of perfect obedience. Now, stay still.”

I screamed and jerked my neck, trying to release myself from her grip. She held firm and my scalp burned.

She let out a gentle sigh. “Failing already. Pathetic.” She released her hand from my hair, and before I could think, brought it across my face, hard. I was shocked at the force she was able to put in the blow. My jaw felt broken. “Listen close. You’re not going to escape. If you did manage it, you would be brought right back to me. Your life is mine.”

Her hand reached for my face again, and I flinched away; but this time, she simply placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing gently. “I could threaten you. I could tell you that if you do not learn to obey quickly, I will simply dispose of you. But I have a feeling I don’t need to. Soon enough you will be embarrassed you ever resisted.”

_Not a chance._

She waved her hand again and people moved behind me. The hood was back on and they led me off god knows where.


	2. Chapter 2

My world was a few square feet of cage.

They had brought me here after I saw her, and now it was all I knew. Thick iron bars, hard painful floor. It was a short square – barely tall enough to stand in.

The cage was in the middle of a larger room, but it was always kept dark. My eyes adjusted quickly but there was very little light. Hardly enough to move by.

I didn’t know where it was. They had removed the gag away when they first brought me here, and for hours and hours I’d screamed. Shouted until I was hoarse, begging for help. None came. 

I didn’t even know how much time had passed. There was only darkness and the cage. Once in a while someone brought me food. I resisted this, at first. Thought I’d manage to protest. Maybe starve to death. But there was nothing at all in my little room to distract me from my hunger, and I gave in. Over and over, I gave in.

They seemed to come at random intervals. It would be no time at all between two meals, then it would stretch an eternity. At times the hunger gnawed at me. At times I felt overfull, because I ate whatever they brought. There was no guarantee when it would come again.

I tried to talk to them, but they acted as if they did not see me. Carried conversations on with each other where they didn’t even mention me. _I’m less than an animal, now._

It was always the same; a torturous lack of anything to do but think, and ache, and eat.

Until, eventually, a sliver of light appeared. It had been a while since my last meal, and my stomach complained loudly. But this time, they weren’t carrying any food. This time, they let the light spill into the room instead of shutting it quickly behind them. This time, they approached the cage.

One knelt down next to the bars and peered in at me. I squinted in the light and tried to get away from him, tried to flatten myself against the opposite edge of the cage. Not that there was anywhere for me to go.

He held something to the large metal padlock and turned. The metal groaned.

Next thing I knew, I was restrained and being dragged toward the light. I put up what resistance I could, but it was pathetic at best. I was underfed, and besides, part of me longed to be in the light.

Then it was the throne room again. My stomach twisted into knots. I didn’t know what she intended to do to me, but I knew that I was far too weak to resist. They threw me carelessly to the ground in front of the throne. _I’m not going to just roll over_. Somehow, I managed to stand.

More surprising, nobody stopped me. I was chained at the wrists and ankles, so there was no hope of running, but this small dignity at least I was allowed. I didn’t want to look at the woman, but I didn’t want averting my gaze to be mistaken for submission, either. I decided to steel my expression and look at her, with all the hate I could muster.

Today she was in blue, and it was beautiful against her dark skin and hair – she looked like midnight.

_Fuck that_. I hated myself for thinking it.

“What do you want with me?” I said.

She smiled. “You know what I want.”

“I’ll never let you turn me into –that.” The word _slave_ was on my mind, but I couldn’t quite say it. It was as if saying it made it real.

“Oh, I think you will.”

I sucked in a breath. “Never. Kill me, for all I care.”

I had lost track of the guards, but they must have been right behind me. The second I made the threat there was a knife at my throat. Terror gripped me and I tried to move, but I was all at once surrounded. She looked down from her throne with the same calm smile on her face.

“Come now, you don’t really want to die.”

I tried to take a deep breath but all I could manage were shallow, panicked gasps. My heartbeat was deafening. “Just – just do it.” If I could just fake it long enough, this would all be over.

I shut my eyes. The grip on me tightened, I felt the metal of the knife, and instinct took over.

I was lost in blind panic. I thrashed wildly in the guard’s arms, shouting myself hoarse. The knife nicked me but I didn’t feel it. I felt like I’d floated outside of my body and was watching myself screaming, crying, and begging for my life. “No, please, no! Don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!” It went on.

The woman held up her hand, and the knife was gone. The guard was gone. I fell to my knees, still struggling to breathe.

Through the rush of blood in my ears I could distantly hear footsteps. “I told you. You don’t want to die.” Her voice was tender, quiet as she crouched bedside me. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I raised my eyes to look at her. Intellectually I hated her, but her soft voice and intimate expression were calming. She reached a hand up to my face. I didn’t have the energy to stop her. I managed not to react as she wiped a tear from my cheek, trying to focus on slowing down my heartbeat.

_Coward._ My limbs felt heavy. _Why couldn’t you let it happen?_

She stayed a moment, long enough for me to come to my senses and rip my head away from her touch. She betrayed no reaction.

“You look terrible.” It did not sound like an insult or a scold; almost nurturing. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She stood again and looked at her hand with a hint of disgust. I was filthy, I knew. God knows how long I had lived trapped in a cage of dirt and grime. If I had trusted her in the least I would have relished the thought of a shower.

“But you’re going to need to relax, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

I blinked at her, spending what strength I had to stand again. Relax? She had to be out of her mind. Then there was a pinch in the side of my neck, and I realized too late I was being injected with something.

The effect was frighteningly quick. My legs became loose under me. I might have fallen down, but I wasn’t sure of that, either – my vision was blurred and strange, starbursting around the lights. And more than anything, I felt _warm_. Deep inside my limbs and chest.

I became aware that I was moving. I didn’t think I had decided to walk, but the room was definitely changing around me. I focused on my body; I wasn’t walking at all. They were dragging me again. No discomfort in my limbs this time, as they scraped on the floor.

_What…did she…do…?_ My thoughts were slow. I reached for anger but I couldn’t find it; it was a memory more than anything. All I felt was warm and calm.

We reached a bright white room and I shut my eyes against the blazing light. I got dizzy before too long, and had to blink them open carefully. The room was warm – steamy and pleasant on my skin. I felt my arms being lifted over my head, and they stayed there. I might have been restrained but I didn’t care. I hung my head and let myself rest, feeling at ease for once.

***

I did not notice I had woken, at first. The room was so dark, compared to the bright light especially, that it made no difference if my eyes were opened or closed. But I did notice I was unusually comfortable. I felt around myself and found a thin mattress where there was usually floor. I shook my head, drowsiness vanished, and made note: I was back in my cage.

No, _the_ cage.

Lying on a bed that had not been there before. It was meager to be sure, but it was a luxury compared to its predecessor. And I was clean, scrubbed from head to toe. But they hadn’t returned my clothes.

I felt a rush of embarrassment, then I felt stupid – who cared if I was naked in a dark room where no one ever looked at me? Why care that I was naked when I was prisoner? A prisoner to a sadist who intended to make me…I stopped the thought before it got that far.

I shivered. It had not been cold in the room before. At least, I didn’t _remember_ cold. But now I was chilled, just enough to raise my hairs and goosebump my skin. I hugged myself tighter.

As I became aware of myself, the pain I had easily ignored before arrived. The front of my neck stung; wounded. The knife had drawn blood. I reached my hand to touch it, and found it bandaged tightly. But there was something else around my neck, on top of the bandages.

It felt like a belt. A long piece of rectangular leather. I felt for the buckle, wanting it off, but I didn’t find one. Slightly more frantic, I touched it all around, searching. There was nothing but a small ring in front. It was too tight to rotate. I tugged at it, trying to tear it off or force it loose, but it didn’t budge. When my breaths got faster, I could feel it pressing into my throat. Every breath made the wound sting and the belt tighten. Then, I realized all at once what it was.

She’d collared me.


	3. Chapter 3

My routine returned again, with a few small changes: the bed, the nudity, the collar. And, occasionally, I was now allowed to bathe.

The first time they came, they gruffly ordered me to wash myself. They’d brought a bowl of soapy water and a cloth. In an act of defiance, I overturned the bowl and splashed water everywhere – including on one of them. He didn’t like that.

He’d come back with a larger bucket of water, two men hauling it between them, and the three of them hoisted me out of the cage over to it. He slammed my head under the water until I was thrashing and wailing.

I came out with fire in my lungs.

“Do you need another lesson, or was one enough?”

One was enough.

So now I bathed. They brought me the tools, I pulled them through the cage and cleaned carefully. I feared what they’d do if they felt I wasn’t doing a good job – they threatened me, occasionally. “The queen wants you to be clean.”

The bed was a welcome improvement. I was sleeping, now – not well, but often. I felt my energy coming back like it hadn’t in a while. I felt almost myself again.

But whenever I lay down, I felt the collar tight at my neck. The inescapable reminder that she thought she _owned_ me. Like a dog. Well, worse than a dog – owners tend to like their dogs.

They came as usual, with food or a bath – I was never sure which – when instead they opened my cage door. That had only meant one thing so far, and it was not something I wanted to repeat. I didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to know what she would do to me now. I shrank back and tried to fight them off. They beat me easily, I was dragged off with fresh bruises. 

They forced me to my knees at her feet. I didn’t want to look at her – I knew I would enjoy the sight, and I didn’t want to hate myself for that. I kept my eyes on the ground.

“What do you think of the gift I left in your cage?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. Maybe if I just stayed quiet, it would be over sooner.

“Don’t you think you should thank me?”

This time, I couldn’t resist. “Go to hell.”

I burst with pain. No one in particular seemed to be touching me – nothing at all had happened. But as soon as I spoke the words, my body convulsed, pulsing like there was fire in my blood. It felt electric and sharp. I checked my skin, sure it was breaking, but it seemed the pain was only inside. I fell over onto my hands, writhing as it shook me, pinching and tearing at me in every conceivable way.

Then as soon as it had started, it was over. I felt my blood pulsing in my aching limbs as the shock of the pain wore off, and I regained my breath on all fours.

It had come from the back of my neck, and I raised a hand to the source of the pain. It felt different – odd. Raised and inflamed, like something was stuck beneath my skin.

“Ah,” she said, voice calm. She sounded as if she had not just witnessed me burst in half. “That would be my other gift. As long as you obey, there doesn’t have to be any pain.”

I was still regaining my breath and said nothing. I had felt like a dog before; now it seemed I had a shock collar to match.

“Now, we need to work on your manners. I think a ‘Thank you, Mistress’ will suffice for now.”

I glared up at her, blood still hot. “Fuck you.”

She only looked at me, and the pain returned. It was somehow redoubled, prodding at my injured muscles. This time I couldn’t help but scream, guttural and loud. It felt like I was being pierced with blades on all sides. It felt like my muscles had been replaced with hot coals.

It took a year, it felt, for the pain to wear off. For a moment I thought it would keep going forever. That I would feel this pain until it killed me.

But then, it subsided, and my heart recovered, and I felt a warm, strong rush of relief. And before I could think about it much, my mouth had responded for me. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Good boy.” I felt completely soiled, disgusting and ashamed, but the pain was gone. Her soft voice was far better than punishment. “Now, you’re smart enough to know how to address me from now on, aren’t you?”

I hesitated a moment, but my body twitched and I had no choice. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Excellent. I love a fast learner.”

I stared at the floor, but movement had begun around me. I was too focused on regaining myself to pay it much mind. I was pulled by the upper arm and did not attempt to resist. I had used all the fight that was in me. They pulled me high up onto my knees, raised as far as I could go while kneeling. She approached me then, taking her time.

She held something metal in her hand, and that quickened my heartbeat. I knew it couldn’t be good. I inched back from her, as much as I could, but I was held firm in place.

When she got to me, she knelt in front of me. She managed to be regal even in this position -- _no, she’s not regal, stop thinking shit like that_ – and she looked me in the eye then.

“I expect the same quick learning for this next lesson,” she said. She held up the metal object – a ring several inches in diameter. As I was looking at it, I felt her suddenly, one hand gripping my cock. I inhaled sharply, ashamed of how my body was reacting, trying not to indicate the arousal I was feeling.

“This,” she said, squeezing, “belongs to me now. As with the rest of you. I don’t want it used for any other purpose.”

She lowered her other hand, and I felt her slide the cold metal ring over my length and lock it in place. It was tight and constrictive, and the longer she touched me the more I realized it was going to be painful to be erect in it.

“That will stop you from doing too much on your own, but just to be sure: I forbid you to touch yourself. Your pleasure is mine to give or withhold. Understood?”

I was focusing on the worst thoughts I could, trying not to get hard. My attention was jerked back as she tugged on my balls. I yelped.

“Understood?” she asked, more firmly.

“Yes,” I choked, somehow longing for my cage where at least there wasn’t pain.

“Manners.”

I swallowed, but, not wanting the pain to return, I managed, “Yes, Mistress.”

Her hand released me at once. The relief surged all the way through me, and she brought a hand to my face again, holding it lovingly. “Very good.” 


	4. Chapter 4

I got bored easily, those days. It felt wrong to get bored when I’m in a living nightmare. I should spend all of my time concocting escape plans. Training. Hating the situation, at the very least.

But I didn’t. I lay most of the time on my bed, staring at nothing in the darkness, and my mind wandered in tiny little bursts of thought. It felt like my brain was getting slower.

Some days I longed for something to happen. For variety of any kind. I knew there was always pain and torture when I got to leave the cage, but it felt distant when I was lying alone in the darkness.

The ring occupied my mind for a while. A new sensation in my empty life was bound to do that. But when I was alone again, and my arousal faded, it didn’t feel bad. At worst it was cold. I was thinking about it one day when my thoughts turned dangerous. Defiant. 

She’d told me I couldn’t touch myself, but I was completely alone in the dark. She was relying on my fear to enforce it. I could take my body back. No -- I could prove it had never stopped belonging to me.

So I waited until after the next guard came, which always meant a spell of solitude. I was oddly nervous. Somehow she had gotten into me the sense that this was _forbidden_.

_You’re being stupid_.

I darted my hand quickly, like I was stealing something, and took hold of myself. I braced for something—I wasn’t sure what – but nothing happened. I waited a few more anxious breaths.

Then the surge of triumph came. So-called “commands” be damned. My cock was already straining against the ring, so I got confident. I started to pump my wrist.

And that was when I released my grip in shock and agony – the pain was back.

I was on the floor before I had time to think about it, doubled up on myself and screaming internally. Tears started leaking out of my eyes as I fought against the pulsing inside me. Electric ripples of rent flesh.

She knows. She fucking knows.

_No_ , I reasoned against myself. _It’s a coincidence. It’s just the same old random torture._

The burst of pain had ended, but the aftershocks were still pulsing in my ears. It started at the exact same time. It’s punishment.

But that couldn’t be true. It was completely dark. There was no one around. She wasn’t _magic_ , for god’s sake.

The other part of my brain screamed resistance, begged me to be afraid, but I had to know. I had to know it was a coincidence. I lowered my hand again.

This time, I had barely brushed it when the pain erupted. It was always so much worse the second time, wound on top of wound. I pushed my arms hard against the ground and buried my head, yelling to get through it.

When it was over I felt very weak, and cold. I curled into a ball right there on the floor, though my bed was a foot away. I shut my eyes and tried to pass out.

***

It was not a pattern I was fond of. A terrible new facet of my torture would emerge; I would resist, I would be punished, and then I would give in completely. My stomach turned whenever I obeyed an order, whenever I went quietly. But the more I did it, the easier it got. And the little rush of relief I got from avoiding a punishment was becoming more appealing every day.

So I didn’t touch myself again. I tried not to even hold my cock to relieve myself, worried that might count somehow. There were fewer and fewer parts of me that hadn’t been taken, or offered up to spare myself the pain.

I was lying in bed, trying to figure out what day it was. It had been autumn when I was taken; I wondered dimly if it was winter now. Would I even recognize winter, here? Probably not anything like it was back home. I hadn’t seen a window since…before.

The door opened and the light poured in. Time to see her. I stood and waited for the guards to open the locked door of my cage. I wasn’t in the mood to resist, so they led me along without any hassle.

By now I went to my knees myself. There was no point making them shove me down and bruise my kneecaps when we both knew I’d go anyway. So I just waited to see what would happen to me today. My stomach was tight, but it wasn’t the icy fear I used to feel. I always got through it somehow, I trusted I could again.

“What did I tell you about your cock?”

I stared at the floor. I had hoped the bursts of pain had been the punishment, but maybe they had only been the warning. “Not to touch it.” The air felt tense for a few beats, and I didn’t want to make it worse, so I grimaced and added, “…Mistress.”

“Yes. And what else?”

I furrowed my brow. What the hell else was there to know?

“Well?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“You ought to know by now to pay attention when I speak to you.”

“I _was._ I just don’t remember.” My voice was angry, but I was beginning to panic. There was no way I was going to be a coward and still get punished, I wouldn’t let it happen. “Please–” I looked up at her.

When I met her eye, I was overwhelmed with sensation – the cock ring had started to vibrate. It jolted my understimulated penis and I all but doubled over. My words were cut off in gasps as I struggled to regain my composure.

She was smiling fondly, as if at a child. “I’ll help you remember. It was that that –” she gestured toward my aching cock – “belongs to me.”

The vibrations had stopped, but I was still panting on the floor, strained against the ring and suddenly overcome with need.

“So one last chance: why aren’t you allowed to touch yourself?”

I darted my eyes away. “Because it…belongs to you.” My stomach was sour.

“To whom?” Her tone was sharp.

I needed to get on with the punishment and get out of this room. I shut my eyes tight. “It belongs to you, Mistress.”

“Exactly right,” she said, and her voice was warm and smooth. My shoulders relaxed a little. “Now, about your two infractions.”

My muscles tightened again.

“I have decided to forgive you for those, since you have already been punished and you have obeyed since then.”

I blinked. Did I hear that right? If the punishment was over, why was I here?

“Or would you rather I punish you again, to make the lesson stick?”

My heart dropped, and this time I did feel fear. “No, Mistress.”

“So what do you have to say of my mercy?”

“Thank you, Mistress.” It came out very quietly.

It was silent for a moment. It was not like her to stay quiet – usually I was removed as soon as she was done with me. I knelt there, still refusing to look at her, still trying to ignore my burning arousal.

“You may go.”

I was unsure at first, stiff on my knees. I had always been escorted out, before. But, hesitantly, I stood. I made to move back toward my cage. The guards followed, but no one touched me.


	5. Chapter 5

After that, I was brought to her every day. And every day, when I looked at her – either by choice, accident, or command – the ring would vibrate, and I would feel myself swelling.

She didn’t do anything to me anymore. She would inspect me, comment occasionally, and then send me away. It was a little baffling – nothing bad had happened to me in days.

It became harder not to try for some relief from the ache and need as it went on. I knew it wouldn’t be any relief at all to try, I’d only earn more pain and scorn. But every day I looked at her and grew hard and became desperate to do something about it. Even though I knew the ring probably wouldn’t let me cum, even though I knew the pain wasn’t worth the attempt, I was desperate every day and it was beginning to drive me insane. I couldn’t think of anything else for hours after I saw her. I resorted to sitting on my hands at times. It was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the pain. As long as I obeyed, there wasn’t pain.

Now I knelt before her again. I didn’t look at her, but that hardly mattered anymore – my body knew what was coming and I was already half hard. I tried to ignore it.

“I’m very pleased with you, recently.”

My stomach surged with warmth, against my will. It wasn’t that I _liked_ obeying her, but it did signal that I wasn’t in trouble, and not being in trouble meant no pain.

“Aside from your first indiscretions—” she paused briefly to let that linger “--you have been remarkably well-behaved. And I’ve decided you’ve earned a reward.”

I glanced up at her in shock – and, of course, there went the ring again. I groaned against the now-familiar sensation, but it wasn’t my main concern. What did she mean, “reward?” I could never trust what I heard – I had experienced “lessons” that were veneers for torture. I was terrified this was more of the same.

But her face was not cold, or cruel. She was smiling gently, and she looked pleased. I had grown very sensitive to which of her expressions meant she was pleased, because they often meant the difference between pain and relief for me.

She waved her hand at a guard beside her, and I watched him closely as he left the room through a door behind the throne. He was gone for a tense minute while my heartrate sped up, and then he returned. Leading another man.

The man was tan, with thick brown hair and a lithe build. He was wearing only underwear and…a collar like mine.

He followed the guard in confidently, not seeming to feel distress or fear. The guards left him at a distance, not careful and close like they were with me. He walked to my side, where he knelt several feet away from me. Head down, silent, still.

My brain was whirling now. I had not been this confused in days; it felt like before when I was hungry and sleep-deprived.

She stepped down from the throne, standing in front of both of us. I leaned away instinctively, but the other man stayed perfectly still. She reached out her hand to pet his hair, and he moved with her touch.

She looked at me. “This is Seven. He’s going to give you your reward.”

Panic filled me. I wasn’t sure how Seven – this man – was going to give me a reward, but I didn’t want it.

She must have noticed my frightened expression. “Don’t worry. He’s going to take care of you.” She turned her gaze to him. “Go slow. I think he’s nervous.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I was startled to hear his voice. He had been so quiet and… I had not heard anyone else call her that.

“What—” I forgot myself. “What do you mean?”

She smiled. “Stay still.”

I knew better than to disobey, of course, but my heart was beating a mile a minute. She turned her attention to me and took a hand to my face. I closed my eyes; it was welcome touch, as much as I wished it weren’t.

Her hand left and I watched her move her hand down, and my heart beat faster. Then she was reaching toward my groin and the fear redoubled. Unexpectedly, when she got there she removed the ring that had been around me for so long.

Instantly, blood flooded to the area. Having been cut off for who knows how long, and the arousal was worse than usual. I was harder than I ever remembered being. What did she intend to do?

“I told you,” she said, voice growing slightly more impatient. “This is a reward. Relax, and be grateful.” She looked me up and down, then spoke over my shoulder: “Restrain him.”

Arms on mine, immediately. Held behind my back. I was now held on my knees with the weight of several royal guards, arms pinned behind my back. I even tried to struggle, much as I knew it would only lead to pain, as the shock clouded my mind.

Then the other man repositioned himself in front of me and I understood all at once the nature of the _reward._

He took a hand to my aching cock, stroking lightly. The sensation was too strong to think. I had been on the edge for what felt like an eternity, and to have something, anything, touching me….it was indescribable. I forgot for a moment who he was, where I was.

My mind started to come back to me and I felt a surge of embarrassment. Disgust. _Get away_. But I didn’t move. I didn’t even try.

He clearly knew what he was doing.

She leaned down to speak in my ear. “It feels better to be good, doesn’t it?” she whispered.

Warmth surged through me and I didn’t answer. Distantly my mind protested, wanting me not to submit to this grotesque display. Not to give her what she wanted. But I was too desperate to stop myself in the real, physical world.

I was nearing the edge. It had been so, so long. I could not even summon the presence of mind to wonder if I was _allowed_ to cum, much less stop it. But she seemed to know – as I got closer, she leaned into my ear again, and said: “Good boy.”

It was the most intense orgasm I had ever had.

I was left panting on the floor for who knows how long.

When I finally opened my eyes, Seven was gone – the only thing I saw was her. Smiling. Almost glowing. Unless that was just the aftereffects of climax.

“I think you’re ready to have the ring off, hmm?” She tipped my chin up to her face, and I blinked at her, processing. “You know better than to play with my things now.”

I nodded, hardly conscious of what I was doing. “Yes, Mistress.”

And she sent me away.

***

I was left alone for a while, again. Back to that habit of food, solitude, bathing, idleness. I lay thinking, or paced. Occasionally I tried to exercise in my limited space. To pass the time, I supposed.

Part of me missed the daily contact. Even though nothing of note usually happened, it had been nice to see the light each day, see her. Get a glimpse of a world outside the cage. But now I was returned to dark, and nothing and even though I no longer strained against an unmet want, something in me longed for what I had briefly had.

I shoved down the thought. Having her -- well, him -- it was manipulation, no more. It was not meant to please me, but to control me. I could not let myself begin to rely on it. But all the same, I dared not touch myself. The memory of the pain was still too salient.

It was maybe a week later, by my crude estimation, that I was brought to her again. This time when the guards approached I felt my heart beating unusually fast – I didn’t feel fearful. I felt…excited.

I knelt and waited, as always.

“Look at me,” she commanded.

I obeyed. Instantly, I was hard. The damn ring again.

Except…I remembered all at once she had taken it off. There was no outside stimulus now. Just my own body, and my own mind, reacting to the sight of her. I felt a wave of shame.

“What do you have to say?” she asked.

I knew what she wanted. “Thank you, Mistress.” I recalled the wave of pleasure the last time I had been in this position and the words flowed easily from my mouth. I could almost believe them.

I had lowered my eyes as I said it – instinct – but I could almost feel that she was smiling. I knew so well what she would like and what would displease her. Better than anyone. Better than myself.

“I’m impressed with how far you’ve come.” An unwelcome surge of pride. “I think it’s time to leave that cage of yours behind.”

This was a shock. The cage was all that I had known for…how long? How many days had I wasted away, pacing back and forth or lying and staring into darkness? It had become so familiar that this vast, open hall now felt uncomfortably huge – too exposed, no safety, no enclosure on any side.

 _No, of course it’s better to leave the cage_. The voice in my head did not sound as emphatic as he used to. But I also knew that any so-called gift came with a price.

This I had learned early, except…the last gift had come with no such price. The longer I thought about it, the more it seemed that insolence was what came with a price. Gifts were given freely, as long as I obeyed.

 _But only to survive_ , I reminded myself.

She was staring at me. Did she expect an answer? “…Mistress?”

She looked at me coolly for a long moment. “But I’m tired of giving you everything. I do not have the resources. From now on you will only receive what you earn.” Her gaze was intense.

I was confused.

“You swore once you would never be a slave, remember? But you know now how it feels to obey, and how it feels to defy me. So it’s time for you to submit. And if you won’t, I can throw you back in the cage to rot. Neither of us wants that.”

My heart was going a mile a minute. I had been obeying to avoid the pain, obeying to survive. It was entirely different to submit willingly. To… _serve_. I didn’t want to be her plaything.

I was fighting a lot of conflicting feelings. Fear – of pain, death, punishment, god knows what else. Shame and disgust at the thought of giving up. Longing, but I wasn’t quite sure for what.

 _This is too far_. The voice in my head had not been this confident in weeks. _Stand your ground for once in your goddamn life_.

I could see on her face that she was expecting me to fold, and that did it. She did not have victory over my mind.

“No.” I could hardly believe I had said it, but there it was. The first brave thing I had done since I arrived. I was waiting for the burst of pain to come, but it didn’t.

She didn’t betray much reaction. She raised one eyebrow, but she did not look disappointed.

“Suit yourself.”

The guards dragged me away.


	6. Chapter 6

The courage was gone by the time I was back in the cage. That was so stupid, I _knew_ what she did to me when she was upset, I _knew_ what was waiting for me if I misbehaved. And I knew she wouldn’t let me die. I’d resigned myself to misery for the sake of what? My pride? What fucking pride was left?

 _She doesn’t own you_. It sounded hollow. Like a lie you tell to children to comfort them.

Nothing happened, at first. I stayed in the dark, as always. I was alone, as always. No new instruments of torture appeared; the pain did not return. The longer it went without a punishment, the worse I felt. I was always nauseous. She wouldn’t let this go unanswered, it was going to be worse than before. It was going to be worse than I could imagine.

I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t even think, thoughts flitting between desperate fears. I sat for hours, trying to count the time, wondering what was taking so long. Maybe the waiting was part of the torture.

I was reasonably sure a day had passed. Still no punishment. And, strangely, I hadn’t seen anyone at all. It had definitely been long enough that a guard should have come by now. My stomach whined, and I added hunger to my list of worries.

Still no one came. The hunger eventually left. It had been a while between feedings before, and she must have been mad. I wasn’t all that surprised.

I spent another long while tense. I started to pace to expel the nervous energy. My body felt tight and twitchy. The hunger returned, stronger this time. No one came.

This wasn’t normal.

 _Nothing here is normal_. But that didn’t matter. They should have come by now. It had been a few days and no one came. Not to chide me, punish me, take me away…not even to bathe. Not to feed me.

 _“I can throw you back in the cage to rot_. _”_

No, she didn’t mean that – if she wanted to kill me she could have already. I gave her the chance at the beginning. My neck still had the scar to prove it, buried under my collar.

It was fear tactics, that’s all. She wanted something from me still, and she wasn’t going to let me die. She wasn’t _kind_ enough.

She didn’t want me to die.

***

More days. At least, it felt like days. I couldn’t possibly know the time. It was always dark, I was always hungry, and nothing ever changed. My thoughts were spinning in circles now. The hunger had turned into pain. I had some water left over when she threw me back in here, but it was running out. Soon there would be nothing at all.

This was actually happening. I had refused to be a slave and she was killing me for it.

 _At least now you’ll be able to die,_ said the voice. _Too much of a coward to kill yourself, but now you’ll starve and this will be over_.

It wasn’t a comfort. I was scared. I started to cry alone in the darkness. I _still_ didn’t want to die, even as things got worse and worse. I wanted to see the light again.

The next time I decided it was night and tried to sleep, the cramps were intense. I tried to sit up and I was too weak, and that drove me straight into full panic mode.

I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed, like I hadn’t since the first day in the cage. No one had come then, but I couldn’t die quietly. I screamed until my voice would not scream any longer.

When my voice ran out, I was still alone. I was still starving. I was dying as a coward.

But at the last moment, when my hope was completely gone, there was light again. Someone opened the door.

I froze. My breath was quick. I still had no voice but I wouldn’t have spoken even if I did. I was not entirely sure this wasn’t my own delirium, a starving desperate daydream.

A silhouette appeared against the blinding light and I blinked to try to focus. It wasn’t one of the guards. It was her.

She didn’t come to the cage. I was brought to her, always. This was a dream.

But the vision approached, and there she stood, just beyond the bars of the cage in the dark lonely room. She was holding something – covered, but I could smell it. It smelled like meat and warmth and my stomach felt like it was turning inside out.

I had come to the edge of the cage now, unconsciously, though still collapsed on my knees. She crouched and reached a hand through the bars, holding my face. I was surprised she was willing to touch me, given how filthy I was. If she were real at all.

“Oh, sweet boy. I know you’re hungry. I know you’re in pain. But I told you it doesn’t have to be this way.”

 _I should move away_. I didn’t. Her hand was warm, and my brain was occupied almost entirely with the smell.

She caught me staring at it, and uncovered the platter in her hands. It looked like some kind of stew – warm, meaty. I saw carrots and potatoes and vegetables, and my vision blurred with how badly I wanted it. I would have reached out if I felt I could lift my hands.

“I don’t want to hurt you, you know that. But I cannot keep giving you everything, can I?”

My vision was blurred.

“I take very good care of my things. You don’t need to be hungry, or frightened, or hurt.” She moved her hand to my chin, gripping harder now. “But you will have to be a good slave to earn that. Can you?”

 _Don’t you fucking dare –_ but what was the difference? I was half-mad thinking of the food and there was nothing I wouldn’t do now. It took several tries, but I managed to croak out a voice. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Say it.”

“I…” I swallowed. “I’ll be a good slave.”

She smiled. I had forgotten how good it felt when she smiled. “Good.”

She set the plate in front of me, and before it was even on the ground I went after it. It was still outside the cage, but I took to it in any way I could – hands, face first, licking off the floor. I didn’t care. It tasted better than anything I had ever eaten. It felt like my stomach was singing.

“Your service begins tomorrow.”

I looked up, face smeared with broth, and watched her go.


	7. Chapter 7

They took me back to the white room to clean me. I recognized it, from the first time they’d let me out of the cage. She had drugged me that time, something that made my limbs soft and my thoughts slow, but there was no need now. I did not struggle.

It was a completely tiled room, like an enormous shower. Steamy and slick, dotted here and there with shower heads and tubs, drains on the floor. I also spotted restraints hanging from the ceiling and remembered the half-delirious sensation of being bathed with my arms held above my head.

Apparently they did not trust me to clean myself. Guards were replaced with servants, though it made no difference to me. One of them guided me to a spot on the floor, turned on a hot stream of water, and then they went to work.

Other people scrubbing my body felt odd. I felt more naked than usual. They treated me as an object, inspecting me for flaws and scuffs and correcting them. When they found bruises they frowned; an imperfection. I guess I would do the same, if I were preparing something to present to my queen.

Someone reached their hands around my neck and yanked on something — I yelped, but was quickly distracted by what he was holding in his hand. He’d taken my collar off, somehow.

That wasn’t right. God, how I’d tried to get that thing off, and always it clung to me. It was the only cover I’d had beyond my own skin. And I was going to get in so much trouble if I didn’t have it when I saw her.

I started to panic, and reached out to snatch it. He yanked it out of the way.

“Calm down.” No one had spoken to me yet, and he didn’t seem overly pleased to be doing so now. “You’ll get it back.”

I let my breath even out, staring at him. I could see right away there was a need —brown rivers rand own my neck now, leathered water and sludge. That skin hasn’t been cleaned in ages.

They picked at my teeth, my hair, my fingernails. I hadn’t been this clean since I’d been here. Maybe not even before. The longer it took, the louder my heartbeat seemed to be. They were paying so much attention and it made me extra aware of how I had promised to be good. If I was no longer allowed a stray bit of fingernail dust, I was likely not allowed any mistakes.

At last they were satisfied. The same man who had taken my collar came back, having left when I wasn’t looking, holding something new in his hand. It wasn’t my collar — it was darker, less worn, and it wasn’t marked from my fruitless attempts to pry it off.

This one also had a large ring at the front; the kind that would allow something to be hooked to it. He looped it around my neck and locked it at the back. The sound of it clicking shut echoed in the tiled room. I fingered at the collar when he released it. This one was looser, just by a hair, and I could almost get a finger under it. My neck had felt odd without it, truth be told.

I suppose they deemed me ready, because they led me back to the familiar throne room. I knelt in a familiar position on the familiar floor. It didn’t even hurt anymore. She wasn’t there, but I kept my head down and waited.

It was a long time. Long enough that guards came and went — maybe changed shifts. My knees had become calloused for this position and still they started to ache. I didn’t look up, because I knew this was a test. And I wasn’t going to fail this test — I doubted she’d be as generous as letting me starve if I did.

Finally I heard the distinctive sound of her footsteps. My heartbeat quickened, and I did my best to quell it, but I was excited. Maybe I’d get to eat again.

She didn’t go straight for the throne, as I expected. Instead she came to my side and I felt her over me. She put a hand on my head. I stayed carefully still as she combed through my clean hair. She had always seemed to like my hair.

Then her fingers fell down to the new collar. She ran them over it, feeling the texture.

“You do clean up nicely, don’t you?”

I knew by now what was a rhetorical question, so I was silent.

“Come now. Earn your keep.”

I followed her out of the throne room, through a hallway I had not seen before. It had not occurred to me that she spent any time outside of this room, although it felt stupid once I realized this. We ended up in a smaller, cozier room. Clearly a living space. There were a few comfortable-looking chairs scattered around a low table.

She gestured toward the wall, near the corner. I wondered if she was going to make me stand there like a child being punished.

“Back to the wall.” I complied. Standing and staring out at the room, no particular purpose evident. “Stay here until I call upon you, and don’t speak.”

She took a seat in one of the chairs. Her posture was relaxed; less formal than when she sat on the throne.

If I was only made to stand still, I could handle that. I had nearly infinite practice from my cage letting time pass with nothing to do.

It was a few minutes before anything happened. She sat and ignored me. I wondered what she was thinking. Then the door at my side opened; I saw a guard – one I had seen before, though I barely could tell them apart – and behind him two more women. They were dressed finely, and were unfamiliar to me, so I knew they weren’t staff.

They were greeting her warmly, and one of them glanced at me. Her gaze only lingered for a second, but I was aware all at once that I was naked. I had been naked indefinitely, for longer than my clouded brain could remember, but the knowledge that these people had never seen me made me feel hot. It didn’t help that I was hard – of course I was, I had looked at her. And now I was standing against the wall, exposed and erect, standing still in full view of these two unfamiliar ladies. I tried to stop noticing the air on my skin again, but I was all too aware.

But it didn’t matter if I was embarrassed. There were far worse things to be. For the moment, I wasn’t starving, and I wasn’t writhing with pain, and that was enough.

They’d started chatting while I was still focused on my own body – names of people I did not know, intrigue in a country that was not my own. Even if I had been as sharp-minded as I knew I’d been once, I would not have been able to follow. My brain slipped into unfocus, as if my thoughts were underwater.

My attention came back in an instant when I heard fingers snapping. I didn’t have time to care that I was able to be summoned with a snap of her fingers. She met my eye and pointed at the ground; one of them had dropped something.

I bent down to pick it up, and I could tell they were watching me. The conversation had lulled. My skin got hot again. I felt like I had a weak grip on the handkerchief I was holding. I decided to kneel to present it, rather than standing. She took it wordlessly and gestured me back to my wall.

It was a meaningless act of service. She had only made me do it to make me prove I would do it. But it had also drawn some attention to me.

“What’s one of the boys doing upstairs?” One of the women asked. She was the smaller of the two, with a round face that was studying me coldly. 

“He is one of them, isn’t he?” the other said. She was now staring at me, too. “He’d be a waste if he weren’t.”

Mistress smiled, watching them looking at me. I was trying not to focus on them, trying to forget they existed, but it was not going well. “He’s still in training. Brand new, when I got him.”

“Incredible,” said the taller woman. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen a new one.”

“And with good reason.” Mistress again. Her voice had darkened very slightly, and my warning bells went off. She was angry.

The other two, blessedly, also seemed to pick up on the shift in mood – they didn’t inquire further.

The door opened again, and another woman entered. Well-dressed, like the others, with dark hair and a severe, angled face. She said hello to everyone, adding a curtsy for the queen, and then looked around at the lack of other chairs in the room.

“We didn’t know when to expect you.” The words were innocent enough, but I could tell she was displeased. The severe-looking woman was not in her good graces.

“I’m happy to stand, Your Majesty.” I doubted this was true, but she did not have another choice.

“Nonsense. My boy will see that you’re comfortable.”

She looked at me, and I wondered if she expected me to pull a seat out of thin air. Maybe it was an impossible test so she could punish my failure.

She beckoned me over, and I knelt beside the newcomer, still unsure.

“Put yourself to use.”

I blinked. How was I..?

“All fours. Now.”

The warning in the tone was evident, and my pulse jumped to my throat. I lowered onto my palms, shaking slightly. I understood now.

I braced for the weight of her on my back, already wondering how long my unpracticed arms could hold this position, but none came for a tense second.

“Don’t be timid,” she said, her voice sweet. “He’s delighted at the opportunity to serve. Aren’t you?”

_Oh fuck no, fuck that, no way –_

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then there was weight on my back, and I had to focus all of my energy on not collapsing under her. I was still weak from underfeeding, not to mention the muscle deterioration from being locked in the cage. I wasn’t in pain yet, but it was only a matter of time. The woman on top of me seemed tense, and I didn’t think she was enjoying it very much, either.

I started to sweat almost immediately. It felt pathetic to be tired by such a simple thing -- surely she didn’t weigh much.

I didn’t want to fidget because I knew instinctively it would be considered poor performance. She had promised she would make me serve to earn my livelihood, and I had no doubt that she meant it.

I used to be stronger.

They started talking again. Chatting as if I weren’t there, again. In a way, I was less there than I had been a moment ago. I focused on my breathing, shuddering breaths in and out of my burdened lungs. I shut my eyes.

I didn’t see it coming, then, when something slipped under me and pressed against my cock. I spasmed, violently, surprised and overstimulated and beyond horny. What on earth..? I opened my eyes and saw a leg extended beneath me. It was Mistress, nudging me with one foot. 

I’d frightened the woman on top of me when I moved, and I tried to straighten up. She was tenser than before, fidgeting on my spine, which made it even harder to keep still. I did not want to know what would happen if I let her fall.

I was more braced, this time, when she prodded me. Exploratory, like she was using a stick to examine something she did not want to touch. I bit down on the inside of my cheek and strained to stay upright.

“He said in the beginning he wouldn’t serve, but his body gives him away. He lives for it.”

I willed myself to just get through it. She would get bored of playing with me soon. She had to.

I was made to stay on all fours as the others were leaving. My hands were starting to slip on the floor, slick with sweat, and I was trembling all over. Even when the woman rose and her weight vanished, it was hard enough to keep my own body in that position. It felt like it took a very long time for everyone to be gone.

When they were, she turned back toward me; I could only see her feet from the corner of my eye.

“Relax.”

I fell. Crumpled into a shuddering heap on the floor. She walked to me, and lowered herself all the way to the ground, which was unusual. I felt her hand on my neck, soothing strokes. I was still, trying to catch my breath again.

“You were very good today. Rest as much as you need, then I think you’ve earned a hot meal.”

The hunger came roaring back. I wasn’t even sure I could stand, but I wanted to eat so badly. I raised my eyes to look at her, to read her face, afraid she was lying. She looked sincere. I must have looked pathetic; she said, “I see. Come on, then.”

She turned to lead me out, and I pushed myself onto struggling legs. The thought of food was enough to get me up.

I followed. We went once again into an unfamiliar room – through the hallway and past the door to the throne room, if I remembered correctly. Then we came across a door flanked with guards. The room we entered was much homier than any I’d seen. Tall windows where I caught dying sunlight — it was evening, I guess. I spied a bed through another doorway, and it struck me then that she had taken me to _her_ room. Or, more accurately, rooms.

I didn’t have time to admire it. She veered to the right just past the entrance, through another small hallway and then into a dining room.

No one was there — the table was big enough for 10 at least, but unoccupied — and absolutely covered in food. A whole roast chicken surrounded by lemons and herbs; baskets of fruit overflowing with bright red strawberries; roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, loaves of fresh bread, carafes of wine. One end was devoted entirely to honeyed pastries, layered with raspberries and cream.

It was too much. My stomach jolted near out of my body — the last I’d had to eat was the stew, and that had not been much. Before that, for as long as I’d been here, it was the same flavorless gruel. I hadn’t smelled food in…ages.

She sat at one end of the table, completely unimpressed with the spread before her, and started pulling things onto a plate. I stood still, not knowing what to do, but I had a horrible thought — was she going to leave me hungry and make me watch her eat? I knew I’d been shaky earlier, but I hadn’t fallen. I had tried so hard.

I was lost in a panic when I heard her snap her fingers at me, inpatient. Not paying attention could only make it worse. But she pointed to the floor beside her, so I knelt. And then, to my great surprise, she handed me the plate she’d been piling up.

I took it from her and only blinked at it, slow to process while I fought my hunger.

“Eat. You’ve earned it.”

I looked down at the plate, now moving slightly in my trembling hands, and didn’t move. I was afraid this was a test.

She placed a hand on my shoulder, then. The shaking quieted. “Oh, sweet boy. I told you, it feels better to be good. Now, eat. I won’t ask again.”

I took a piece of meat gingerly in my hands, barely daring to believe it, and took a bite. It was fresh and citrusy. Warm juice trickled from the corner of my mouth. As soon as that was done, the floodgates opened and I devoured the entire plate with my hands, barely tasting the food as I shoveled it in.

The voice in my head was disgusted. _You’re eating her table scraps._ _You’re letting her treat you like an animal._ But he wasn’t half as loud as he used to be.

When the plate was clean, and my hands and face were covered in remnants, I couldn’t help it. It slipped out of my lips. “Thank you, Mistress.”

She liked that. She smiled at me. She stroked my head. And then she gave me more, and for the first time since I’d been here I felt genuine delight. 


	8. Chapter 8

I had eaten so quickly that I was long stuffed when she finished. I felt overfull, bloated, but I still remembered the hunger cramps too strongly to show any restraint. And if I were being honest, a small part of me knew this wasn’t going to last.

Eventually, she got up to go, and we reentered the main living space. There was a door between this room and the bedroom, but she stopped before she entered. There was an alcove to the side, set back into the wall. She called out, and a guard appeared from a servants’ entrance. 

He was carrying a large padlock. She only titled her head at me and the guard approached. I looked at the alcove again and discovered chain set into the wall. He locked the end of it to the ring on my collar, and I was stuck.

I remembered suddenly what I was. The chain was low and short, which made it uncomfortable to stand. I went to the ground to take pressure off my neck.

“No more cage, but I can’t have you wandering off.” She looked toward me, but I looked away. Trying not to say anything so I wouldn’t say anything stupid. She headed for the bedroom.

She shut the door to the bedroom behind her and left me in the hall. A chained stray. I tugged on the chain, on the collar, but I wasn’t fooling even myself. I knew they wouldn’t give and I didn’t intend to work myself up trying. My hands were still covered in grease and honey, sticky from the meal. There was nowhere for me to go.

***

The next day I discovered that this was to be the new pattern. She took me with her, gave commands, and I obeyed. They were mostly easier than the first day: fetching, holding, standing still. She made me exercise one day, which felt good to my atrophied body. I felt her eyes on me the entire time, studying my muscles as they worked. Admiring, even.

The worst day was when she took me outside. I had thought it was winter, but it was hot as any summer I knew. I kept her shaded all day, but I baked in the sun.

The reward for my trouble was always the same: a beautiful meal from her own table. As long as I did what was asked, I knelt by her side at night and ate my fill. I tasted roast beef and fish, strange fruits I couldn’t name, sugared pastries and warm, fresh bread. I wasn’t hungry, now. When I felt a surge of rebellion, felt like defying her, it was quashed easily with the memory of rosemary and duck. It seemed I craved it more the more I got, and as the days went on I got more and more afraid of when it would disappear.

One day, a servant woke me in the alcove. This wasn’t unusual, someone usually did – depending on which one, it was more or less gentle. This one shook me roughly, which I preferred to being kicked awake, at least. She tossed something at me, said “Put it on,” and walked away.

I was confused what it was, at first. It was leather, one larger piece with a few straps attached. It wasn’t a collar: besides the fact I was already wearing one, there were too many straps. I studied it for a moment longer before I realized what it was. I swallowed.

It was a sort of harness, with a pouch in front for my groin. It went around both legs and between them, hooking again at the back. It was tight, and unforgiving. There was no extra room.

For the first time in a long time, I was led into the throne room. I had not been there since I left the cage. She sat in the throne, as I had seen her many times, looking comfortable. She crossed on leg over the other while I went to stand in front of her. She made a motion to prevent me from kneeling.

As soon as I looked at her, I started to get hard, and the tightness of the leather pouch became an issue. I couldn’t get fully erect, so I felt instead a combination of pain and pleasure, insufferable teasing.

“It looks quite good on you,” she said. I didn’t answer. It felt obscene. I’d been naked for so long, but to have so little felt somehow worse. She crooked a finger and I stepped forward, closer to the throne than I’d ever been before. Then she put her hands on the pouch, studying. I had to shut my eyes. The fabric diffused the sensation, but that almost made it worse. She seemed pleased. 

When I opened my eyes, she pointed to a spot beside the throne; I went and knelt. Unusually, I was sitting next to her, facing the same direction.

“Stay there.”

I did not realize how long that command would be in effect.

People came and went. Most of them didn’t look at me at all; a few of them, those who seemed less at ease, less familiar, gave me a few nervous glances. But she didn’t acknowledge me, so they didn’t either.

I felt more embarrassed at new and different people catching sight of me like this. The unfamiliar confinement made the lust worse, as well. I wondered if I looked as desperately horny as I was, and the thought made the butterflies travel up my throat.

They talked politics and government and other things I didn’t understand. I didn’t know anything about politics back home; I had no chance here. So I didn’t try to listen. Instead, I studied the room to distract myself.

There was one main door, through which almost everyone came. A hidden servants’ entrance on both sides. The right one opened on a hallway that led to my cage, that much I knew. Whenever they opened the main door, I caught a glimpse outside: I could see trees and bushes through an arch into a courtyard. The trees were mostly bare and unfamiliar. 

I fantasized escaping. I would wait for a servant to enter through the hallway I knew, and make a dash for it. Try one of the other doors and pray. Or I’d cause a distraction of some sort and make it to the courtyard, then through to an entrance. I’d climb a tree. I’d stand and strangle her before anyone could stop me.

Each was more ridiculous than the last. They would catch me. She always knew; she would know what I was trying before I’d begun. I wouldn’t make it halfway out before she brought the pain back, and there would be no running through that.

And then I would be back where I started, except I’d be hungry again and she’d be furious.

I knelt, I didn’t make a sound, and I ignored my twitching, long-asleep legs and kept still.

Even if I didn’t know what they were discussing, it was plain to see that everyone who came in the room all but worshipped her. Some were afraid; trembling so hard they could barely speak. For these she spoke in her soft, sweet tones, and their faces lit up. I watched the warmth spread through them. I knew the feeling well.

Others did not enter afraid, but surely left that way. She could lower the temperature of the room simply by staying silent.

Still others looked at her with awe, alternately averting their gaze and staring, struck as if by a natural wonder. I had done that one, too.

It did not take long for me to conclude that the stories they told us back home were true. This was not a political leader, a figurehead, or even tyrant, to them. She was more.

The room emptied for the millionth time. Instead of someone else entering, she stood and stretched her long limbs. It occurred to me that she had been sitting as long as I had, and must have felt stiff. Then she stepped down in front of me and acknowledged me for the first time since the morning.

“You’ve been excellent today. I couldn’t be happier.” It was the warmest smile she’d ever given me, and it did make my heart move faster. I felt myself getting hard again, too. “I’ll have something for you — you earned it. But first there is one more person to see, and I’ll remind you that you vowed to be good.”

Her face had turned stern. I had no idea why she was reminding me of that, since I’d apparently been so good all day. I wasn’t going to like what happened next.

She returned to the throne. Her posture had eased somewhat, leaned to the side and resting her head in her hand, and she gestured lazily for a guard to send someone in.

The doors opened, and a man walked in. He was short and broad, dressed loudly. I recognized him; he was the one who had brought me here.

Now I understood the warning. It was going to be a hell of a lot harder to stay still and quiet for this.

The man approached the throne and bowed, obnoxious and over-emphatic. She smiled nicely at him, but I knew instantly it was forced. She wasn’t happy with him at all — in fact l, I was pretty sure she hated him.

“How nice to see you again so soon.”

“The honor is all mine, Your Majesty. You look as resplendent as ever.”

Yes, she hated him. She only tapped one finger on the arm of the throne, but I had no doubt.

“You’ll be interested to know I’ve made good progress with your gift.”

That was when he looked at me. He looked puzzled for a moment, then I saw him recognize me. Son of a bitch didn’t even remember my face at first. I wanted to punch his smug face, but I ground my teeth instead. 

“I see!” He sounded interested. “As Your Majesty says, the last time I saw him he was bucking like a rabid mule. Seems almost docile, now.”

It shouldn’t have made a difference — I had been acting on her whim for weeks — but it was harder with him there. I did not want to submit in front of him, to be seen as _docile_ by him. My fingernails were digging into my palms, now.

“Yes, almost. Still learning, but he knows by now that he likes to be good.” She looked at me as she said it, and there was warning in her eyes. I became very aware of my breath, sucking in air through my teeth as the skin on my bare chest prickled. “Don’t you?”

_There’s no point in being stupid. It’s almost over._

“Yes, Mistress.”

She smiled again. Subtle, but genuine this time. My heart slowed slightly.

“Perhaps a demonstration,” she said. She turned to me. “Come.”

I rose and walked around to the front of the throne. I could feel him at my back, staring at me. Observing what he had turned me into. I couldn’t imagine how obscene I looked with a leather strap running down the crack in my ass. I knelt.

She extended one foot toward me. “Kiss it.”

 _Don’t you dare, coward,_ the voice in my head shouted. But fuck, I wanted to avoid any pain. I wanted the reward she mentioned. I was hoping against hope she was going to let me cum.

I leaned forward, head bowed respectfully, and I kissed her foot. I had butterflies in my stomach, like I was nervous to do it.

She shooed me back to my spot. “See?” she said. “Well on his way.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.” He seemed slightly uncomfortable at the demonstration, which was darkly satisfying. He had turned me into this; he ought to be made to watch.

“Now,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I am prepared to hear your apologies.”

The man sputtered. “I…Majesty?”

Her face had gone cold. She sat up in the throne, imposing herself fully. The butterflies in my stomach hadn’t left.

“Do you think I don’t know where you got him?” Her voice was cruel. “You’ve brought me only troubles and expected to win my favor.”

“I—” he was at a loss for words. I knew her expression – there was nothing he could say now that she would tolerate. He did not seem to know this. “No, Your Majesty, I only seek to serve –”

She gestured at the guards, and he was surrounded. They restrained him, hands pinned at his back. It mirrored my first day.

“I thank you for your generous gift.“ She stood now, towering over him and truly frightening. “Take him away.”

The guards dragged him off; toward the right-hand door, the door that led to the cage. He shouted as he was pulled: -- apologies, pleas for mercy, cries of fear -- but he couldn’t resist. Soon his shouts grew distant, and he was gone.

I couldn’t help but smile, as bitter and twisted as the whole thing was. If our roles had been reversed, I knew he couldn’t have endured what I had. _No_ , I thought. _He wouldn’t have had the chance, because she wouldn’t have kept him._

She rose without saying anything and made for the exit.


	9. Chapter 9

We had a meal as always, and then passed back into the living room. She sat on one of the chairs. I stayed standing, unsure what to do. I felt somehow both small and like I was taking up too much space.

She looked at me a moment, then her face broke into a smirk. This was not an expression I knew — she could be amused, pleased, indignant – but I wasn’t certain which. I hated not being able to tell. Knowing her face was how I survived.

“By now you should see that I told you the truth. You don’t have to be hungry, and I don’t have to punish you.”

My limbs were sore, but it was nothing like the electric spasms I got from the thing in my neck. I wondered morbidly if it was even possible to get it out, whatever she’d put in me to cause the pain. If I somehow escaped, and somehow made it across the continent back home, and somehow wasn’t dragged back here on my ass to face her wrath, would they even be able to dig it out? The skin on my neck seemed to prickle the more I thought about it, and I had to raise a hand to check that nothing was there.

“Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Mistress.” I had tasted understanding in every possible flavor. 

After a moment she stood and crossed the room to me. I made to kneel, but she pulled me up by my chin. I’d never seen her eyes this close; they were deep brown, barely lighter than the pupil. She ran the tip of her thumb over my bottom lip, and I shivered. I shut my eyes, because looking at her was becoming too much.

Not looking, I didn’t notice until she’d done it that one of her hands had slipped down. She pulled at the straps until the harness fell to my feet. Unrestrained and so close to her, I swelled.

She stroked my erection lightly, only a single finger. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying not to think about how badly I wanted her to keep going. I always wanted release, but today had been so much worse.

“Very good.” Her voice was almost sensual. “Before long, you may get to put this training to use.”

She was gone. I opened my eyes to find she had stepped away. I took a few sharp breaths.

“But for now, I did say I had something for you.”

I had forgotten. The meal was usually my reward.

“I know what you want most, sweet boy, but you can’t have it yet.” As usual, she had known what I was hoping for. I should not have hoped for it to begin with.

She gestured and I followed her back toward the bedroom, and I found my alcove had been transformed. It looked almost a living space now; cushioned, comfortable. Lined with something soft, spread with blankets that looked like fur.

I knelt in the spot, and I couldn’t deny it was a huge improvement. I felt I might actually be able to sleep, this way. She locked me to the chain, but it felt somehow different. She combed her fingers through my hair, affectionately. Then she turned back to the bedroom, and before she got in she turned to a guard and said, “Bring me Seven.”

The door shut. I heard something beyond the door. Footsteps, and a familiar deep voice. I was trying to place it when the sounds changed; labored breathing, someone falling to the bed. Then I remembered: Seven was the man she’d brought up to reward me, the first time. She’d called him one of her favorites.

Seven was also the only person I’d seen with a collar like mine, and the only other person who addressed her like I was supposed to.

And he was clearly in there fucking her.

It was clear to me all at once: I wasn’t an animal, and I wasn’t a servant. I wasn’t even a slave. I was a fucktoy.

I felt disgusting. _God…are there actually_ _7 of them? More?_

My stomach had turned sour, but I was distracted from my repulsion by the sounds from the other room. They weren’t quiet.

Oh, I had been stupid. I had been doing as I was told, like a good slave, as if all she wanted was for me to fan her in the heat. I should have known — she’d been training me to get erect whenever I saw her, and she’d said on my first day that I was so pretty she knew what to do with me. Of course this is what she wanted.

She was going to demand it, soon, and I would either obey and enjoy the comforts that came with, or I was going to return to being punished and ignored. I hated to think it, but it seemed instantly clear which was the better option. It was spread under me, soft and inviting.

And…I _did_ want to touch her. My mind flashed back involuntarily to her hand on me, a moment ago, and I got more aroused. I lay down, shut my eyes, and tried not to think about it. I wanted to be the one producing those little moans. I wanted to be Seven.

 _Fucking revolting._ I agreed with the voice, but it didn’t make it less true.

*******

I woke up not feeling rested. The sounds from the other room had stopped, though it felt like it had taken forever last night.

I didn’t hear anything now. My only option was to sit and wait for someone to release me. If they intended to at all.

I heard movement occasionally, but it was a while before I saw anything.

She opened the door after a long while, fully dressed. She was very happy, I could tell. Seven had pleased her. My stomach lurched.

She glanced at me, then raised an eyebrow.

“You haven’t been breaking the rules, have you?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant at first, but she was looking between my legs. She thought I had masturbated. It had been so long since I was allowed, the thought hadn’t even occurred to me.

“No, Mistress.”

 _What an obedient mutt._ Nothing I thought was more humiliating than the realities of my situation, so the voice didn’t bother me.

I must have showed something in my face. Hard to know what she saw, given I barely knew what I was feeling. Disgusted at myself, and a slurry of other unidentifiable things; longing and fear for something vague.

She leaned down and touched my face. “Don’t worry, all the boys get jealous. You’ll have your turn.”

I yanked my face out of her hand, heart racing, and growled, “No.”

I had forgotten how much it hurt. I knew it was agony, but knowing and feeling were different things. It burned all over, all of me pressed against a hot stove. It was like my mind was screaming, echoing off the inside of my skull. Nothing was worth this.

She had risen when I could focus again. Her eyes were cold, and she was disgusted. “You’ve been so good, and now look at you. You’re smarter than that.”

I was trying to regain my breath. I felt something wet, and I realized to my horror I had pissed myself during my spasms. I had thought I had no pride left, but I was wrong. I had enough to feel stupid and ashamed.

“Clean up.”

She left.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a ridiculous thing to have done. It might have cost me a meal or two, in addition to the pain. She was right; I was smarter than this.

I expected her to come right back, but she didn’t. I cleaned my mess, then I was left to my thoughts again. They were all angry, guilty, disgusted or ashamed, so they were poor company.

I was getting hungry again. It tickled its way back into my stomach, old and familiar. But it seemed to hurt more, now that I was used to being fed. I was going to have to learn how to be starving all over again. Just so I could have the thrill of defying her for a moment. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What if I went back to the cage for this? What if I’d lost even my chance to earn a meal?

Day passed into evening. It was a familiar nothingness, but the hunger was louder. Finally, I heard a door somewhere, and I knew instantly it was her. My heart fluttered. There was a chance I could do some damage control.

 _Look at you, you’re going to beg for mercy?_ But of course I was. I got to my knees and bowed my head.

I could tell she was approaching by her footsteps, but I didn’t raise my head. I waited — she wouldn’t like it if I spoke first.

“Are you pleased with yourself?”

She let that hang for a beat. It took me a second to start speaking.

“I apologize, Mistress.” I had trouble getting the words out, but I knew what to say. “I was disrespectful.”

I couldn’t tell for a moment how she felt. It’s possible she hadn’t yet decided.

Then, the air around her seemed to shift. She made a quiet, satisfied sound, and she walked away.

I felt the release of tension and I let out a breath. A wave of calm hit me, and I remembered what she had said before: _“He knows by now that he likes to be good.”_

***

I had hoped that might be the end of it. No such luck.

I didn’t eat that day, or the next. I didn’t get to leave the room. Thankfully, they did put me on a longer chain. I could reach almost the whole room, but I stayed put.

It could have been worse.

It was more comfortable than the cage had been, even given that I felt like it would be pushing my luck to sit on the furniture. I could reach a washroom now, and for the first time I had a window. I stared at the odd winter trees and watched the sun inch across the sky.

When she came back again, she didn’t acknowledge me. I could have been a piece of the wall. But she did ask for Six, and I learned for sure there were more. More of them like Seven, and me.

Six didn’t sneak in through some unseen side door like Seven had. He was escorted in the main door of the suite, which meant I had to watch him coming. He was blond and fair-skinned, with something of a permanent smirk on his face. He practically sauntered, despite being flanked on either side with an armed guard. He winked at me as he passed, then vanished into her bedroom.

He was also louder than Seven. I heard their voices rising occasionally, muffled through the door. Once I heard her laughing, and the jealousy rose in me like bile. I clenched my fists and tried to block out the noise.

 _She wants you to be jealous_.

I knew that, of course. Why else walk him by me, and leave me here? She wanted me to be sitting just outside the door, chained up and stewing over having made a mistake, and wanting her. 

But there was nothing else for me to do. I was too horny to fall asleep, if I could have slept through the noise. I was too distractible to think about much. My mind was wispy. I couldn’t hold on to thoughts like I used to. Time slid together. I just kept staring out the window.

***

I woke the next day to a loud _thud_. The doors of the bedroom had swung open, and Six fell through them onto his ass.

I shook my head, half asleep, and saw that I had not imagined it. He was only half-dressed, and it looked like he’d been thrown through the door.

“Please, Mistress, I—”

“ _Out.”_ There was fire in her eyes. He fell silent on hearing it, bowed his head, and ran for the exit. His skin looked freshly pink in some places, as if he’d been hit.

She turned to me, then. I was so startled that I stared like an idiot for a second before I remembered to look away. “You: in here.” She turned on her heel and went back into the bedroom.

I glanced nervously at my chain, trying to estimate its length, but there was no time. I hurried after her.

She was still wearing nightclothes. Or, that’s what I assumed they were, given they were less well-ornamented than her usual. It still looked expensive to me, though it was little more than a nightgown and a thin robe. I’d never seen her hair down, either – usually it was twirled up on her head or braided with jewelry; now it simply hung loose.

 _Stop staring at her, you moron, you’re hard enough already_.

The bedroom was large, and dark; thick curtains had been pulled over the windows, blocking most of the light. Slivers of sunlight here and there showed dark wood and deep colors. She walked straight through it, towards another door at the far end. From there we entered her private bath.

It was the white tile room in miniature; blindingly bright, sparkling clean, with a huge mutli-fauceted tub at the center. It looked like a spa; there was room enough for a family to bathe. It was right on the threshold of the bathroom that my chain ran out. I tugged to see if I could pull an extra bit loose, but it was completely taut. When I tried to follow her I just bruised my neck.

“Close the door.” She wasn’t looking at me. I couldn’t close the door, because I couldn’t put myself fully _inside_ the door.

I stood there motionless for a second, hoping the chain would somehow vanish. “I, uh –”

 _“What?”_ She turned so fast her hair whipped around her head. I tried to become smaller.

The problem was immediately clear, and she glared at me as if it were my decision to be in this state. She yelled over my shoulder and someone hurried in, not meeting her gaze. Everyone knew she was angry, and they wanted as little time in the line of fire as possible.

They freed me and I shut the door, suddenly aware of how untethered I was. I straightened my neck, feeling lighter without the weight of the chain.

I turned to find her fiddling with knobs on the bath, which was filling with steaming water. Once it was filling, she took a seat at a vanity. I stood where I was left and tried not to do anything at all, but she turned her gaze on me again.

“You’re lucky Six was in his usual form,” she said. “He’s pissed me off so much I’ve quite forgotten to be angry at you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Did she want me to thank her? My skin was goosebumping, though the room was warm.

“Then again, he’s never boring.” Her expression softened slightly, and I was even more confused. She wasn’t scolding me, I knew for sure, but I wasn’t sure what she was doing. Was she…joking with me?

I licked my lips. “Am I…boring you, Mistress?”

Then she broke into a real smile. The aura of anger had faded, surprisingly quickly given how strong it was. “I don’t know quite what to do with you, sweet boy.” She did not seem to be responding to my question directly. It was more as if she was wondering aloud, speaking to herself.

I was still standing stiff near the door, and she was looking at me very deliberately now. Not studying an object, as she had before, nor looking at me as entirely human. No – she was definitely staring at me, naked in the bathroom, to admire the view. My chest felt tight; I was aware of air moving in and out of my lungs.

“Check the water.” She said it without lifting her gaze, and for a moment I did not register it as a command. I walked deliberately to the bath when I did, very aware that I was turning my backside to her. No doubt part of the idea. The water was hot, but short of scalding. I turned to her and nodded, not knowing exactly what to say. And my throat felt unusually dry.

Then she stood, shrugging off her thin robe. She held it out in my general direction, and I took it without thinking. Then she pulled off the nightgown. She didn’t show the slightest sign of embarrassment. I turned away before I got a good look at her, but it was enough to send blood rushing to my groin and pounding in my ears.

She slipped into the water and ignored me.

I felt dirty, suddenly. It had been days now since my last bath.

“Bring me that.”

I snapped my attention back to her, and found her pointing at a glass bottle of something across the room. I went to pick it up; some kind of viscous liquid. It smelled sweet and floral.

I was still holding her robe in my hand. As I walked to her, the fabric slipped under my foot, and I went down hard. Glass shattered, sending shards everywhere. The liquid coated the floor and my feet. My heart jumped into my throat. I went to my knees as fast as I could, not caring that I was kneeling on broken glass. I bent all the way over, bowing, pleading. The only pain I cared about was the kind that came from the back of my neck, and I wanted to avoid it badly.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to.” I didn’t think she was bound to be lenient because it was an accident, but I needed to say it anyway. I needed her to know I wasn’t being disrespectful again. I needed to eat today.

My forehead was on the floor, and she was quiet. No pain yet. I was beginning to feel the little bits of glass poking into my flesh, the sting as the soap touched them.

Still she said nothing. Had she heard me?

“Get up. You’re going to bleed everywhere.”

I stood, wincing; I’d taken a few pieces of glass with me, stuck in my shins. There was a small darkened part of the soap puddle where I’d been, and the robe was stained with blood and soap.

She rose out of the tub quickly, and her expression was dark. Careful not to step on the glass, she stepped out to stand in front of me. I kept my eyes on the floor.

“Look at me.”

I didn’t want to – I wanted to sink into the floor. But I raised my eyes. I didn’t have time to read her face before she struck me. It was hard enough, and unexpected enough, that I fell to the ground again. Glass poked into the side of my thighs in new places, adding to my wounds. I stayed where I was.

I saw her take a deep breath from the corner of my vision. It seemed like she was trying to calm herself. The pain was unpleasant, but it was nothing compared to the zap. I was praying I could still avoid it.

“Well, what do I do with you?” she said.

It felt like it would be unwise to answer.

“It’s pointless to ask you never to have an accident, but I also need you to be careful. So where does that leave me?”

I stayed silent.

“Look at me.” Her face was still stern, but some of the fire had gone out of it “You’re perceptive. You’re quicker to learn than the others, and you had a lot farther to go. So give me the answer of what to do with you that will satisfy me.”

It was hard to think – harder than usual – with her in this position. I tried not to look at the tiny rivers flowing down her breasts, tried not to look as aroused as I was. I wished suddenly I were still outside. But I studied her face. If I gave a wrong answer, it wouldn’t make things any easier for me.

I could see that she was tired. She was angry at Six, and at me, and she was tired of dealing with anything. She wanted me to stop bothering her.

“I think…” I cleared my throat. “I think you should send me away.” She didn’t react at first. “To think…about being careful.”

A long, long second. Then her face relaxed. She didn’t say anything, but she waved a hand, and I left.

I’d been right, I could tell. But I didn’t realize until then I was right for two reasons: first, because she wanted to be left alone. And second, because as much as I wanted to deny it, forcing me to leave her felt like I was being punished.


	11. Chapter 11

It took me a second to figure out where I was, when I woke. I’d known when I left that if she saw me right outside her door any time soon, I’d be back where I started. So I washed out my wounds in the sink, picked the glass out of my skin as best as I could, and I slept in the closet.

I opened the door, blinking in the light, and found a heaping plate of food left out for me. Eggs and bacon and toast, piled higher than I could ever eat. I knew it for what it was instantly: my reward for being perceptive. I didn’t hesitate to devour as much as I could.

I stayed in the closet for a while. There was no sense being in trouble just for being seen, especially since there wouldn’t be anything to do either way. I left the door cracked open, but it was still somewhat dark. I’d spent many days in darkness, in the cage. My eyes had been honed to it then. It felt familiar. It felt safe.

There were always questions, when I was with her. Danger of doing something wrong. And deep in my gut I still had a fear of becoming…being used. But the fear had begun to feel abstract. The same way I feared being robbed, in my old life – far away.

And fuck, I wanted to cum. The blue balls were beyond insufferable. All of the time being brought to and from the edge of arousal, never allowed to do anything with it. It was maddening.

But there was no part of me that considered disobeying for that relief. I was determined to never get the shock again. I had avoided it this time, and I was fairly sure I could do it again. I knew her face by now. I knew what she liked and didn’t; what she wanted from me. I knew even what punishments would satisfy her. If I could be good and avoid being punished, all the better, but now I had a feeling that I could skirt the pain even when I fucked up. I knew what she wanted.

I was smarter than Six. Whatever he did to get himself thrown out, I wouldn’t dare. He was cocky and overconfident. I could tell just from his face. So he got thrown onto his smug ass, cast out and infuriating her enough to put everyone on high alert. An idiotic move. All he had to do was play the game correctly, and it was so, so easy to win.

It was afternoon when a guard opened the door to the closet. He didn’t say anything, but flicked his head and walked away; I followed. He took me out and around, past the alcove where the chain was still hanging. _No one chained me back up_ , I thought, somewhat surprised. I hadn’t noticed. We walked right past it and through the doors, into the bedroom.

He vanished, and she was there. It was a total contrast to the day before. She was once again fully dressed, radiant, and utterly calm. Her anger at Six – maybe at me – seemed to have faded away. Instead, she was sitting on the end of her wide, luxurious bed, smiling softly at me the way she did when she wanted people to feel relaxed. That was a good sign, at least.

“Did you eat?”

I only nodded. My life had become a pendulum of gnawing hunger and overfullness, and I was on the end I preferred now. She smiled brighter; she liked that.

Truthfully, the food was at the bottom of my list of thoughts at the moment. I was staring again, at the impossibly smooth skin on her long limbs. Her hair was done up as I was used to, silver chains wrapping into knots and twirls. She wasn’t dressed for business – it was as simple as her clothes ever got, purple and shimmering though they were.

She could plainly see I was uncomfortable. It was hardly subtle how aroused I was. I tried not to think about it, but her attention brought me back to the deprivation. She beckoned me toward her with a finger, and I was at the edge of the bed now. My heart was beating unconscionably fast. I couldn’t tell whether I was eager or scared.

She raised one of her hands to my abdomen. I found myself embarrassed, against all odds – I had been stronger, once. My muscles had been more defined. I don’t know if she noticed this; she stroked a finger across my skin. Then she lowered her hand and the dread returned.

It took all my strength not to flinch away. I couldn’t stand the stimulation, it made the pain of deprivation so much worse. She hadn’t even touched me yet and I was already sweating.

“Please…”

I couldn’t believe I’d spoken. It had been quiet, but I knew better. I prayed she hadn’t heard me. I had already begun concocting punishment suggestions for speaking out of turn.

She had heard, but her face was serene. “Yes?”

“Forgive me, Mistress, please...” I couldn’t look at her. “It’s hard enough already.”

I was half-terrified I was being too bold, but my instincts told me otherwise. I must have been right, because she didn’t react harshly. She pulled her hand away.

“Look at me.”

I searched for anger or disappointment in her face and found none; I found nothing but calm.

“You’ve been very patient, haven’t you, sweet boy?” Her hand was on my face now, stroking it soothingly. I couldn’t help but relax. She made a _hmmm_ sound. “But you’re not ready yet.”

Not a question. Just as well – I did not want to decide if I was…ready.

“I know what to do with you.”

She stood and I stepped quickly out of the way. She took one of the massive, overstuffed pillows off the bed and threw it absentmindedly to the floor, beside the head of the bed. Then she pointed to the pillow.

I knew that instruction, and I knelt, but I was hesitant. I wasn’t usually allowed to touch anything. And it seemed like a trick somehow, to be offered something for comfort.

But I knelt on it and she did not react.

“Stay.”

She made for the door. Was she leaving? Kneeling on the pillow in the room was certainly better than situations I’d been left in before.

She didn’t leave; instead, she cracked the door to address the guard standing there. “Seven.” That was all she said before she shut the door. 

Excitement bubbled into my throat; my cock twitched. But I didn’t know what she intended. I didn’t know if she had summoned Seven for me, or how I felt about it if she had. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was still in trouble.

But it didn’t matter – I did the only thing I could do, and I stayed where I was told.

I saw the hidden door for the first time, between the bathroom and the main door. A portion of the wall opened and Seven appeared, shirtless. He didn’t meet her eyes, nor did he look at me, but entered head down. He knelt at the foot of the bed. It was clear that this was a routine to him.

She stood beside him and stroked his head. He raised his head into her hand, silently asking for more. I felt a pang in my stomach.

A moment longer passed the same way. Seven didn’t seem to mind – he was hard, of course. I could tell even through his pants. But he didn’t seem jittery or anxious, like me. He had been in here a few days ago, he wasn’t as blueballed as me, but he looked so _patient_. It seemed like he could have stayed all day next to her and never get frustrated.

I decided this was a punishment – no, a lesson. I was supposed to notice how patient Seven was and learn to be the same way. No accounting for the fact that I was at a disadvantage, but then, there never was. I’d really thought I had gotten myself out of hot water, and I was angry for making that mistake.

Suddenly, she turned back to me, hand still on Seven’s head. “While Seven is here, you have my permission to touch yourself.” My brow furrowed, confused. I tried to control my face. “And you may cum, as soon as I do.”

My stomach did a backflip. This was a punishment and a reward. This was something else entirely. I wasn’t sure, but for the moment it didn’t matter at all because all I could think about was finishing. My hands were shaking, now.

 _Don’t start_. God, I knew the second I touched myself I would be halfway there. I needed to wait for her to finish first. _Patience_. Every second was going to be torture.

I fixed my gaze on her obsessively. As if I was hoping she would orgasm on the spot.

She took her hand off Seven’s head and placed it under his face, lifting him by the chin. Then she kissed him. I was taken aback by how tender it was. He let her lead, of course, but she kissed him slowly and softly. They looked more like lovers than mistress and slave.

I shifted on my knees. It wasn’t as if I could be more desperate than I already was, but I was getting more aroused watching them. Aroused, and jealous again. I dug my nails into my palm. I should not be jealous of this.

Their faces parted. It wasn’t clear to me how he knew to pull away – she hadn’t said anything. But of course he must have known her body language as well as I did. Better.

She turned her back to him, facing me now, and pulled her hair over one shoulder. Seven began to undress her.

I didn’t want to watch this – I had no doubt this would cause me more pain than I was already in. But she was looking in my eyes, meeting my gaze, and I didn’t feel I could look away.

He was very careful with her clothes, and, as with everything, he took his time. Her garments slid off one by one, pooling at her feet until she was naked.

Her hair was long enough to cover her left breast. I had seen her naked once before, but it didn’t lessen the effect. I was throbbing all over. Then I couldn’t help it anymore, and I held out my trembling hand to touch myself. The last time I had done this had been in the dark, in the cage. I’d been zapped, then.

But I had permission now, I wasn’t afraid of that, only worried about being too quick. As soon as my hand was around the shaft I bit my lip; I could have cum right then. I pulled my hand away and tried to focus on breathing.

Seven was behind and had started kissing her neck where her hair had been pushed aside. At some point he had removed his own clothes. His kissing was so gentle – he barely seemed to touch her. She leaned into him and closed her eyes.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

She pulled his head up and kissed him again, more passionate this time. Her breathing was getting quicker and I could see her nipples hardening. I wanted to touch her more than anything.

She nudged his head downward, and he worked his mouth down her body, taking her nipple in his lips and starting to suck. She closed her eyes again. I distracted myself by studying her face, keeping note of which sensations she liked more than others. If I knew her face, I could be good. Assuming I made it through this.

I was used to deprivation, but not to this along with it. It was hard to bear the scene in front of me. It might even have been better if I weren’t allowed to touch myself at all. I was used to abject denial. But knowing it was so _close_ , so _soon_ , made it that much more unbearable.

Now she opened her eyes again. She glanced at me only briefly – maybe checking what I was doing, or if I was obeying – and turned her attention back to Seven. She lightly nudged him on the shoulder, and he fell backwards onto the bed as if under much more force. He was so suggestible.

I knew then that this was what she liked about him, how servile he was. Based on what I had seen, I assumed she got a thrill out of Six for the opposite reason. Perhaps she found his unpredictability exciting. Perhaps she liked to punish him.

Analyzing Six and Seven wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that she was on top of him now, straddling him and kissing from above. I prayed they would just start fucking already, so I could get some relief.

Another minute of this, her back arching now as she took his mouth, and I thought I might be able to hold off long enough if I started. I flinched away at my own touch, at first – any sensation was so unfamiliar now. But after a few quick breaths I took hold and started working the length. I was dripping precum. I panicked for a second, wondering if I was staining the pillow.

Fuck, it felt good. Just my own hands on my own body, but it had been so long since I had gotten a single streak of pleasure. I was heating up – too quickly.

I zeroed in on Seven and Mistress on the bed, and found to my dissatisfaction they were still kissing. How could he bear it? How could he stand to wait? If I were Seven I would be begging on my knees by now.

She glanced at me again, too quickly for me to read her face. She kissed Seven once more, biting his lip, then rolled over onto her back. He replaced her on top, and I thought at last it might be happening. Her breaths were much shorter now.

She looped her hands around his head and pulled him down, commanding him from beneath. Soon he was kissing at her neck again, still unbelievably restrained and gentle. She was not as composed – it was the least fastidious I had ever seen her. I was overcome, too much to notice I had started to move my hand faster.

I was shaken out of my rhythm when she changed course suddenly. Her hand came to Seven’s length and she held it firm, pushing toward her entrance. I shut my eyes tight for a fraction of a second, remembering how her hand had felt gripping me.

These sounds were familiar. I knew Seven’s steady, labored breaths. He thrust his hips precisely, with perfect control, even as she let herself go. She took both hands to his ass and began to pull him in: he thrust faster.

I found a natural pace again and I could feel I was getting close. Oh god, how badly I wanted this. It had been days and days of edging and I was right on the cusp. I just needed to hold out.

I focused on her. I barely saw Seven. I was fixated on her face, her smallest expressions. Her breaths became very short, in rhythm with his movements. I matched their pace, trying to time it exactly right. Her breathing turned to moaning, and I could almost burst from being so pent up.

And, finally, her moan broke. It was only a second before I followed.

It was too much, after so long. I couldn’t stay on my knees and fell forward onto my hands, panting. I didn’t know if she was listening, but still I muttered into the ground.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”


	12. Chapter 12

She sent me out and I slept like the dead. I think even if it hadn’t been for my cushions and blankets I would have slept well; an orgasm after all that denial was intense, and my entire body felt the release.

I woke later in the morning than usual. She let me sleep in. It wasn’t long after I had woken that I heard her voice through the door. “Come in here.”

I wasn’t completely certain she was talking to me, but I weighed the options and decided I’d be in more trouble if I didn’t respond than if I responded incorrectly. I opened the door cautiously and stepped inside.

The bed was still untidy from last night. The pillow I had knelt on was there, too. She looked fresher, however, newly washed.

She’d been facing away from me, combing through her hair with her fingers, and she turned as I entered. She was completely nude, and I couldn’t help but get hard. It had been twelve hours of relief, and now I was back to denial.

“Help me dress.”

She directed me to a wardrobe on one side of the room, and specific pieces to pull from it. I carried a pale green gown to her. She stepped in the lightweight skirts and waited. I bent down and held the bodice, pulling it up onto her shoulders. My hands were shaking slightly from fear of wrecking it somehow, ripping the delicate fabric.

It had a long series of buttons on the back. I had to go slowly to fasten them, they were so small. My hands brushed her skin occasionally and my fingers felt staticky. I was very aware she hadn’t put on any underwear, and the thought of that sent a fresh shiver down my spine.

I finally finished the buttons and stepped away. She turned to face me, and I knelt instinctively. The long green fabric made a pale waterfall in front of me, trailing slightly on the ground.

“Were you satisfied, yesterday?”

I kept my eyes on the floor. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”

“Seven is very good, isn’t he?”

It was obvious bait, but still it riled me up. I felt the need to beat him, suddenly. I had no choice but to answer. “Yes, Mistress.”

“But you were watching. I know you were, my perceptive boy. I know you’ve already begun to think of the ways he wouldn’t be able to please me.”

My skin grew hot. Did she manage to notice me observing him, or did she just know that’s what I’d do? But she was right; I knew what he couldn’t give her.

I had stayed silent, but she knew my answer.

“Tell me, then. Tell me where he’s lacking.”

My throat was dry. “Seven isn’t proactive. He has to be told what to do.”

“Exactly right. As clever as always.” I felt a small smile at the corner of my lips; I liked the idea of outsmarting Seven. “Go ahead, then. I’m satisfied.”

I was disappointed to be sent away. I hadn’t done much at all, and it wasn’t going to be enough to earn anything. I got up and went for the door, back to ponder in nothingness.

She spoke just before I reached the door. “Bring your things in here, tonight. I want you closer to me.”

My heartbeat doubled its pace.

***

I spent the rest of the day with a nervous pit in my stomach. Something was going to happen. She wanted me to be close to her, and I couldn’t think of any other reason than wanting me in her bed. That meant that she trusted me to obey, and she thought I could give her something the others couldn’t.

I tried not to let my blood pump too fast, tried to slow down my arousal. Finally having a moment of pleasure seemed to have changed something, and my body was more eager now. It was just like going hungry after I’d become used to being fed – my body had forgotten so quickly how to be starving.

There was a little voice in my head, far away, that was frightened. Once she took me fully, I didn’t think I could go back. Once I was able to touch her I knew I’d do anything to get the chance again.

But so what? What would I be giving up? Only pain, and discomfort, and shame. And worst of all, if I displeased her, she might not let me see her at all. That scared me more.

Hours went by. They brought me dinner but I didn’t taste it. My body was all jitters, moving at the slightest sound. My mind kept looping around and around.

The sky through the window was almost black, just the tiniest hint of the dying sun, when she returned to the room. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat when I knelt on my blankets. She waved a hand at me as she passed my alcove, so I followed her into the room.

We were only a few steps in when she glanced over her shoulder. “I said to bring your things.”

I winced, slightly. It was the only order I’d been given all day, and I’d forgotten. I went outside to scoop up a pile of blankets and pillows, and I carried everything inside in two armfuls. She had me set it all beside the bed, near where I’d been last night, though that pillow had since been put away.

She watched me from a perch on her bed. Her expression was quiet and fond, and I knew it represented one of her better moods. When I was done, I went to my knees on top of the pile. She kept quiet and still, for a moment. My nerves were beginning to twist up my stomach, now. I wasn’t sure I could handle what was going to happen.

“Come here.”

I stood in front of her, watching my rapid breaths expand my chest. She stood and stepped toward me. Her hand came under my chin and tilted it up, and I was looking in her eyes, now. My thoughts were scattered.

She pulled my face to her and kissed me. It was gentle and chaste, her lips closed and touching softly. Even touching her skin had been enough to give me goosebumps, and now I was overcome. Her hand moved around my head, combing into my hair and gripping. She tugged sharply, sending another shiver through me; when I gasped, she took the opportunity to take my mouth with her tongue.

I felt like I was vibrating. I didn’t think I was going to be able to keep this up for long. My cock was aching.

Her other hand clung to my back, tracing along my shoulder blade. She deepened the kiss and her grip grew stronger; I could feel her nails digging into my skin. I wanted her to drag them across my back, scratch fine pink lines into me.

Her hand in my hair pulled again, but this time more slowly. She pulled my face off of hers and released both of her hands. I was disoriented.

“Stay down here, sweet boy. Sleep well.” She turned and walked toward the door.

I lowered down onto the blankets. Was that it? Was that all she wanted? My body was still poised, and I couldn’t begin to think about sleep.

She opened the door, like I had seen her do before, and this time she spoke a different command. “Five.”

My heart fell through my stomach. She wasn’t going to sleep. I had been the appetizer.

Five came through the hidden door. He was shorter than Six and Seven, but much broader. Stronger. When he entered, he lifted her easily in his arms and carried her to the bed.

They started to kiss and I couldn’t look away. I was going to be here for all of it. Except this time, she hadn’t told me I had permission to masturbate.

She gave him a meaningful look and turned around. Five started working to undress her. I watched him do it – one by one he released the buttons I had fastened this morning.

Soon she was perched on the end of the bed, and he knelt in front of it. Her breaths hitched as he dipped his head between her legs and started to work with his mouth.

I tried to lie down, to not think about it. I tried to hold on to how I’d felt before, when she was holding onto my hair and kissing me. I tried not to be jealous of Five pleasing Mistress a few feet away.

I failed.


	13. Chapter 13

My days returned to a pattern. In the daytime, I would be given commands. But in the evenings, now, I was left to watch as one of the other boys came to pleasure her.

Seven came a few more times. Patient, obedient. I got to confirm first-hand my theory about Six. He was wild, and eager, and unpredictable. He was exciting. Five was strong and silent.

I knew each of them, before long. I was perceptive, after all – it was something she liked about me. I couldn’t help but notice each of their quirks, and catalogue their skills. And I was going half-mad with desperation.

Some nights, before she called for one of the others, she kissed me – she’d lay me down on the bed and straddle me, or she’d let me kiss her chest and neck. Every time I was half-panicked and half-hopeful, not knowing at which moment it would end. I did the things I knew she would like, where I had watched the others succeeding, and I was right more often than not. But every time she ordered me aside and called for one of the others.

I tried to be better at serving her, in the daytime. I was quicker; I was smoother. I anticipated her needs. I tried to be good, be good enough that she wanted to reward me. She had rewarded me with release before. If I could impress her enough, she would want to reward me again. And this time, I believed she would give me the reward herself. 

It had been an especially long day, full of people who seemed nervous that I was in the room. This had stopped bothering me, though. It never made any difference what those people thought of my presence; so long as she wanted me there, no one would object.

She disrobed unceremoniously, leaving a pile of clothes on the floor, and walked toward the bathroom. I knelt and waited, listening to the running water from the next room.

When she reentered the bedroom, my heart jumped. My body knew the routine, and I had to work harder than usual to stay still. But instead of approaching me, or beckoning me to her, she simply lay down.

“Turn off the lights.”

I got up to obey instantly, and I didn’t realize until halfway there that this was unusual. I stopped partway there and turned back.

“Do you want me to send for someone?”

“No. Just go to sleep.”

“Yes, Mistress.” There was a pit in my stomach, now. My steps felt heavy.

Behind me I could hear her move, and I turned again, in case she needed to address me. She was half-propped up on her elbows and looking at me curiously.

“You’re disappointed.”

I didn’t respond. She always knew. She wasn’t quite smiling, but her expression had brightened. Then she lay down again.

“Lights.”

I turned them off and went to sleep.

***

When I woke, she was already gone. I was not a heavy sleeper these days, and she normally made no effort to be quiet, so I was surprised she had gotten out without my noticing. Ever since I had been sleeping in the bedroom I had woken first, and I liked it that way – no need for the tactics of the guards, and I was always ready when she asked for something.

I sat up, knowing not to go anywhere until I was told. The heavy curtains had been drawn, at least, so I could look out the wide windows. The tree outside was starting to bud tiny purple flowers. I let time fall away staring at them.

It was dark when she came back. She entered the room with Seven on her heels. I didn’t know where they’d been, but my stomach roiled at the sight. It was supposed to be me who spent the day with her, not him. It wasn’t enough that he was in here every alternate night? I didn’t let the anger get to my face.

“Right where I left you,” she said. Her voice was warm and pleased, and I felt slightly better. “Very good.”

She turned back to Seven, touching his face and pushing toward the bed.

She addressed me. “You’ve been very good; I’ll see that you’re fed well. But I need you back in the hallway tonight.”

My stomach dropped. She couldn’t be serious. This was a step backwards – I was getting farther away, losing opportunities to prove myself, and still so desperately horny. I couldn’t stop myself before I said, “Him again?”

I shut my eyes. _That was stupid_. I forced myself to look at her face; it wasn’t angry. I thought she looked…mischievous.

“Do you have something to say about it?”

The _no_ was on my lips, but she put her hand on his shoulder, and it made me angrier.

“You could have better.”

She raised her eyebrows. It was a risky thing to say, but she was in a good mood. It would take more than usual to bring her to anger. And I was so, so tired of waiting.

“I see,” she said. She took her hand off of Seven and walked toward me slowly. My heartbeat was in triple time. One of her hands pushed up on my face gently, and I rose.

Her eyes were hungry.

“Do you want me?” Her face was so close to mine, I was dizzy.

I glanced down involuntarily – she was close enough to feel I was hard. She knew the answer: why ask? Before I could look at her again, I heard her laugh.

“I know _that_ wants me.” She reached down and I thought she was going to grab my cock, but she took my hand instead. Her fingers played around my palm, scratching just hard enough to imply pain. This pain I did not want to shrink from. “But do _you_ want me?”

She didn’t give me a chance to answer: she pulled me close and kissed me instead. Her lips tasted so sweet, sugary and fragrant like her perfume smelled. I was barely moving, because she was taking my mouth with such enthusiasm I didn’t have to. The tension and warmth rose in my chest, and I parted my lips more, and my thoughts had all been replaced with sensation.

She was gone as quickly as she’d come – pulled back and staring. Her expression was completely calm, verging on bored, and I had to focus extremely hard just to keep breathing.

“You know what I need to be satisfied. You say Seven isn’t up to the task. Do you want to satisfy me yourself?”

She took her hands completely off me and stepped back, looking interested but unhurried. My whole body was shaking from trying to keep still.

“Yes.” My voice was barely a breath. “Yes, Mistress. Please.”

Her smile made my stomach flip. She kissed me again, biting my bottom lip. I was dying for her to tell me I was allowed.

She looked over her shoulder to where Seven was still standing. “Leave us.” She glanced back at me. “Tonight I’m going to have Eight.”

My mind was buzzing as she pulled me to the bed.

_Finally._


End file.
